


brooklyn baby

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Series: soft wwii boyfriends [20]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Amputation, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Bucky Barnes Goes to Therapy, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Catholic Steve Rogers, Crying, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gay Bucky Barnes, Hospitals, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Kissing, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Modern Era, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rating May Change, Recovery, Somewhere around there, Steve Rogers Goes to Therapy, Teasing, Therapy, beck's like. idk. 13? 14?, i'll figure tht part out later lmao, mayb 12 even idk, shrinkyclinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-05 03:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: my boyfriend's in a band / he plays guitar while i sing lou reed / i've got feathers in my hair / i get down to beat poetry





	1. Chapter 1

Steve held the end of his pencil between his teeth, humming something to himself before scrawling it down in his tiny notebook and holding it out for Bucky to see. “Whatddya think of this?”

Bucky looked up from his guitar and held the notebook steady. “Like this?” He strummed a few chords as he sang the words softly. “I know it hurts, I know, my dear; there’s tubers in your chest. But soon the sun will shine anew. The lilies will bloom yet.” He mulled over the words for a moment. “I like it.”

“Thanks. Steve took the notebook back and stared intently at it. “How’s your thing going?”

“Pretty good, I think. It’s kinda based off the tune we use for the sh’ma, so every time I try to work on lyrics my brain just goes into shul mode.” Bucky laughed. 

“Oh, I get that. Every time I try to write about forgiveness it’s just all hymns. I haven’t even been to church in over two years.”

“Well-”

“Holidays don’t count, Buck.”

“I’m just sayin’, Steve.”

“That you wanna make my ma cry? That it, Barnes?”

“Fuck you, Rogers. Your ma’s a damn saint.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in saints.”

“Good point. She’s the first Catholic tsaddiq, then.”

“You’re not even Hasidic.”

“Don’t change the subject. We’re already too off topic. Point is, if you go to J-man’s birthday bash-”

“Don’t call it that.”

“-then you’re a practicing Christian.”

“What about that time you tagged along?”

“That’s different. She invited me, and Chanukah was already over, so I didn’t have anything else to do. And then I got to make out with my lovely boyfriend in a church pew, and how many other gay Jews can say that?”

“You only came to Christmas because you wanted to make out in the pews?!”

“It’s a hell of a story!”

Steve laughed. “You’re the fuckin’ worst, Buck.”

“Yeah, but you love me.” Bucky leaned over to give Steve a quick kiss on the lips.

Steve smiled into it. “Jerk.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, punk.”

The two of them continued, relatively wordlessly. The sound of Bucky’s deft fingers plucking the guitar strings blended in with the wind rustling through the trees outside and the low chatter of Bucky’s younger siblings from the other room, forming a comforting background noise for Steve to think.

Someone knocked on the door to Bucky’s room.

“Come in,” Bucky called. He didn’t look up from the tabs scrawled on the paper in front of him.

Bucky’s mother, Winifred Barnes, opened the door. “How’re you boys doin’?”

“Pretty good. We’ve made a good bit of progress, huh, Steve?”

“I’d say so.” 

“Well, that’s good. Just thought I’d let y’know that dinner’s almost ready. Y’might wanna get Steven home soon.”

“Alright, Ma.”

“And pick Becca up from her play rehearsal on your way back, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Thanks, James.” She took a step forward to ruffle his hair, chuckling as he absently swatted her away.

“I’d tell you to stay for dinner, but-”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve shut his notebook and stood to put it in the pocket of his jeans, along with his pencil. “I had fun, though.” He kissed Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky smiled and put one arm around Steve’s small shoulders, bringing him in to kiss his temple. “Me too. I like when you come over.”

“Gay.”

“You know it.” Bucky grinned. “C’mon. Becca’s on the way to your place.”

Steve put on his denim jacket, which rattled with pins on the front and was stiff from the patches on the back. “Thanks for the snacks, Winnie,” he called over his shoulder as he and Bucky left the apartment.

“Don’t sweat it, kid!”

Bucky shut the door with a blank look. “Quit kissin’ up to my ma, Rogers.”

Steve folded his arms. “I’ll quit kissin’ up when you start kissin’ me.”

Bucky smirked and turned on Steve, putting one hand above his shoulder on the wall. “Cocky, aren’t you?”

“You love it.”

“I do.” He put his other hand on the side of Steve’s jaw, lifting his face up to press a kiss against his open mouth. “I wish y’didn’t have to go to therapy tonight.” He kissed Steve again. “I’d love to take you back to your place and head up to your room—” (another kiss, this one to the uncovered side of his jaw) “—get you all to myself.”

“Buck-” Steve grinned, but put a hand against Bucky’s upper arm and gently pushed him away. “I want that too. But I gotta get goin’ or I’m gonna be late.”

Bucky sighed. “I know.” He gave Steve one more brusque kiss, this time keeping his lips closed, and the two of them started off down the hall. “Tomorrow?”

“My Ma’s got the day off, so she’ll be home all day.”

“Sunday?”

“She usually goes out with her friends for lunch after church, so that oughta work.”

“Awesome.” Bucky took Steve’s hand as they got in the elevator. “I’ll see you Sunday, then.”

Steve reached up to wrap his arms around Bucky’s neck. “Wish we didn’t have to wait.”

“Me too.” Bucky gently kissed Steve’s soft lips again. “It’s only a day, though.”

“Mhn.” Steve leaned against his boyfriend’s chest. “Thanks for giving me a ride.”

“No problem. I gotta pick Becca up anyway, remember?”

“Still.” 

The two of them pulled apart as the elevator door opened and went out into the foyer. The air outside was cold and biting, and Steve shivered, shoving one hand in his pocket and hastily grabbing Bucky with the other. Bucky chuckled, bringing their mess of fingers into the pocket of his bomber jacket.

“You’re such a dork sometimes, Stevie.”

Steve smiled, knocking against Bucky’s arm with his shoulder. “And you’re not?”

“I never said that.” Bucky sighed. “Y’think it’ll snow tonight?” He asked. His voice was softer, like it always was when he was coming up on romanticism.

“Maybe,” Steve replied. He reluctantly let go of Bucky’s hand as they approached his car. “That’d be pretty. White Christmas, and all.”

“And a white Chanukah,” Bucky teased as he unlocked his car.

Steve blushed. “Well- Yeah. That too. Uh-”

“Hey, get in the car. I’m just fuckin’ with you.”

“Jerk.”

Bucky gave Steve a quick kiss. “Punk.” 

“Asshole.”

“Clown.”

“Douche.”

“Brat.”

“ _ You’re _ the brat, Buck.”

“Shut up, nerd.”

“Make me.”

“Can’t. Gotta drive you to therapy.”

Steve chuckled. “Sunday, then.”

“Oh, you and I both know I’m not gonna make it that long. Nah, I’m gonna take a nice, long shower-”

“Shit, Buck!” Steve laughed. “You’re disgusting.”

Bucky shrugged as he pulled onto the street. “Might as well be honest about it. And don’t lie to me, Rogers- I’ve seen what you do when you think I’m not around.”

Steve went beet red in Bucky’s peripheral vision. “At least I don’t talk about it.”

“You mind scrolling through our texts from the other night and then saying that again?”

“I can’t believe you’re bullying me. This is horrible.”

“C’mon, Stevie; you love me.”

“I love having something to talk to Trish about. Every time I walk into her office, I forget everything that’s ever happened to me.”

“Shit’s like that sometimes, y’know? I do the same thing.”

“Hooray for having a shit memory.”

“Damn right.”

The rest of the ride passed in relative, comfortable silence until Bucky pulled up to the mental health clinic where Steve’s therapist worked. He gave his boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek, only to be met with another on his lips, and carded his fingers through Steve’s hair for a moment before he pulled away.

“I gotta go,” Steve murmured, but went in for another kiss all the same. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Bucky gently cradled Steve’s sharp jaw. “Sunday.”

“Sunday.” Steve smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you.” Bucky smiled back as Steve clambered out and shut his door, giving a little wave as he hurried up the stone steps.


	2. Chapter 2

_ idiothead _

_ jamie where tf r u _

_ jamieeeeeeeeeee _

_ james i’m srs _

_ jamie it’s fckin cold come pick me up already!!! _

_ ffs dude _

_ ok this isn’t funny _

_ if ur late bc ur mackin on steve i stg _

_ punk bitch _

_ quit makin out w my bro _

_ ? _

_ like in general or _

_ no dumbass _

_ he’s way late to pick me up _

_ so quit makin out w him _

_ it’s cold >:( _

_ beck i’m in therapy rn _

_ then where tf is jamie _

_ i thought he’d have picked you up by now _

_ me too but here we are _

_ ugh _

_ w/e i’m callin my ma _

_ lmk when you guys find him ok? _

_ yea ok _

Rebecca jumped as her phone started to ring loudly in her hand. She swiped to accept the call and held it up to her ear.

“Becca, where are you?”

“I’m waitin’ for Jamie to pick me up. He’s crazy late.”

Winifred sighed on the other end of the call. “He’s not answering his phone.”

“Shit, is he okay?”

“Language, Becca.”

“Sorry.” She went to sit on the porch of the little theater. “But seriously, though. Where is he?”

“Wish I knew.”

Something clicked in Rebecca’s anxiety-riddled brain. “I heard sirens a little bit ago,” she said softly. “D’y’think-?”

“Let’s hope not,” her mother interrupted. “I’ll be right over to pick you up, then we can go ask around.”

“What, like- like on the street?”

“No, Beck, it’s-” Another sigh. “We’re gonna go to the hospital, see if he’s there.”

“That’s a lose-lose situation, Ma.”

“Beck, just- just listen. Okay? He’s gonna be fine. We’ll find him.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna find him fuckin’ half-dead in the hospital and-”

“Rebecca Beatrice Barnes!”

“Ma, I’m fuckin’ scared for him!”

“I-!” Winifred sighed. “I know,” she said slowly. “I’m scared too. But are you having an anxiety attack?”

“I-I-I dunno, I-”

“Okay, Becca? Listen to me. Do you have your worry stone?”

“Uh.” Rebecca fumbled for the pocket of her jeans. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Tell me about it.”

“Um, it’s-it’s about two inches wide, a little taller, so it’s egg-shaped, and, uh.” She sniffled as she rolled it over in one hand. “It’s all curved, like a contact lens-”

“Convex?”

“Convex, yeah. And it’s like a-a shimmery dark blue. It’s blue goldstone. And it’s totally smooth. One side of it’s really warm, ‘cause it was against my thigh, and the other’s really cold.”

“Anything else?”

Rebecca paused. “It’s pretty. Dad got it while he was in Israel as a kid, and then he gave it to Jamie, and Jamie gave it to me.” 

“Okay. I see you now. I’m gonna hang up, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Winifred ended the call just as she pulled up to allow Rebecca to jump into the car. “Hey. Are you okay?”

Rebecca’s mouth was drawn into a thin line across her face. Her hands were shaking as she buckled her seatbelt, but she nodded anyway.

“Beck.” Winifred reached out to stroke her daughter’s cheek. “He’s gonna be fine, Beck.”

Rebecca bit her lip. “Okay.” 

* * *

Bucky tried to open his eyes. Everything was heavy. Foggy. His vision blurred. His head was stuffed with cotton and couldn’t be bothered to ache.

“Ma?” His throat was just the slightest bit hoarse, like a tickling just in the back. Had he forgotten to warm up before singing? He tried to lift his head, but it was too heavy. Too heavy. Everything was too heavy.

“Ma?” He called out again. “Becca?” His eyes were burning, but not from the fluorescent lights above him. “Georgie? Edie?” Something was beeping beside him, though not in response. It was rhythmic. Even. (No, not quite. Speeding up, but he almost didn’t notice.) “Stevie?”

Someone was at his bedside, trying to talk to him. He couldn’t make out the words. Her tone was soft, though. Gentle. Comforting. Not his ma, but she sounded close enough. Like when he’d come to her after a nightmare when he was little. His vision was blurrier now. Tears slipped from his eyes and down his cheeks. “Where’s my mama?”

It took a while for him to be able to understand her words. “-name, honey?” Her hair was red and greying, pulled up in a loose bun. She shined a light in his eyes. “Can you tell me your name?”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he mumbled. “Where’s my mama?”

“How old are you, James?” 

“Nineteen.” He could feel his chin trembling. “I want my mama.”

“Okay. We’re gonna find your mama, James.”

“I want my mama.”

“I know, hon. Do you know where you are?”

“No. ‘M supposed to pick up my sister.”

“Someone will pick her up, James. It’s okay. Don’t worry about that.”

He glanced up at her kind brown eyes. “Am I dying?”

“No, James. You lost a lot of blood, but your vitals are stable. You’re doing fine; just get some rest.”

Tears started to well up in his eyes. “I want my mama.”

“I know. Get some rest, okay? She’ll be here when you wake up.”

“But- but I-” He tried to prop himself up on his elbows as she walked away, but fumbled, falling painfully on his left shoulder. “I want my mama. I want my-”

But she was gone.

Bucky smacked the bed with his right hand. The sudden movement jostled the tube in the crook of his elbow, sending a dull spike of pain through his arm. The beeping became more rapid. Someone yelled from beyond a curtain for him to shut up. A man entered the room. 

“Hey, it’s okay, buddy.” The man moved to inject something into the tube in his arm. “You’re okay. You’re just gonna take a little-”

The woman came back into the room. “Hey, Sherwin. Trigger-happy much? I’ve got it handled.”

The man re-capped his syringe. “You sure?”

“Yeah. The kid’s mom is here. Go take care of that college kid with the nine-volt in his rectum.”

Bucky turned to look at her. “She is?”

“Yeah, James. It’s okay.”

Sure enough, she opened the door, and standing there was his mother. Her greying black curls hung loosely around her shoulders. She had one hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. “Oy, a mecheieh,” she murmured, and was at her son’s side in an instant. “James, honey. You’re okay. You’re alive.” She took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. “You scared the shit outta us.”

“‘M sorry, Ma,” Bucky said softly. He tried to hug her, but it seemed like his left arm was pinned beneath her weight as she leaned over him. 

“Hush; don’t be sorry. It’s okay.” She kissed his face again. “I’m just glad you’re alive. I was so scared, Jamesie.”

Rebecca stood silently just behind her mother, staring at Bucky with wide eyes, her worry stone in her hands.

“Ma, where’s Beck? She okay?”

“She’s fine, Jamie. She’s right here.” Winifred pulled back and brought Rebecca forward. “See, Becca? I told you he’d be fine.”

Rebecca kept staring for a moment. She looked up at her mother. “Mama, he . . . ” She swallowed. “His arm-”

“I know, Becca. I know.”

“Wh-what’s she talkin’ about?”

“James, honey, it’s- you were in an accident, and-”

“Shit- no. C’mon, Ma, don’t- don’t tell me-”

“Your arm was— It had to be amputated. I-”

“Ma, no-”

“Jamesie, I know you’re upset-”

“Mama-”

“It wasn’t your fault. You’re gonna be okay.”

Bucky tried to speak, but his voice died in his throat. He reached for his mother with one arm and let her hold him, clutching her sweater, and cried into her shoulder.

“You’re gonna be fine, James. Everything’s gonna be okay. I promise. You’re alive; that’s what matters right now.”

Rebecca stood there for a moment, anxiously rubbing her worry stone with her thumbs, then pulled out her phone as she remembered her agreement with Steve.

_ Rebecca _

_ found james _

_ oh good ! _

_ where was he? _

_ tbhc _

_ what?! _

_ jesus _

_ mhm _

_ he’s not dead tho _

_ so _

_ tht’s good _

_ yeah that’s good at least _

_ how’s he doing? _

_ he’s stable _

_ tht’s good ig _

_ he got rl hurt tho _

_ [Attachment: 1 image] _

Steve felt a lump rise in his throat as he opened the picture Rebecca had sent him. Bucky was lying in a hospital bed, talking to his mother. There was an I.V. in the crook of his right elbow, and thick bandages covered the stump of where his left arm had been.

“Change of plans,” he said to his cab driver. “Head to Brooklyn Hospital Center.”

“Sure thing,” the driver replied.


	3. Chapter 3

_ punk bitch _

_ i’m omw _

_ has he said anything? _

_ yea _

_ it was mostly babbling when we got here  _

_ bt he’s makin more sense now _

_ must be scared outta his mind _

_ he is _

_ he was askin fr u a lil while ago _

_ really? _

_ yea _

_ doc said he might have a concussion bc he frgot he dropped u off _

_ he thot u were in th accident _

_ aw,,, _

_ tell him i’ll be there soon _

_ will do _

“Hey, Jamie?”

“Hm?”

“Steve wanted me to tell you he’s on his way.”

Bucky swallowed. Closed his eyes. He bit his lip and turned his face to the ceiling. “Shit.”

“James,” Winifred chided, but her heart wasn’t in it. 

“When’ll he be here?”

Rebecca sent a quick text. She bounced her leg as she waited for the response. “About five minutes?”

Bucky opened his eyes. “Ma, when he gets here, y’think y’can find the doctor or somethin’? You’ve prolly got a million questions.”

Winifred tucked a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear. “Sure, baby. Just go easy on yourself, okay?”

“Okay.”

Winifred sighed. She took Bucky’s hand in both of her own and ran the pads of her thumbs over his knuckles. She looked as though she had ten thousand things she wanted to say, but couldn’t find the right words, instead settling for planting a kiss on the back of his hand.

“Beck?”

Rebecca was slow to respond. She glanced over, but her gaze quickly shifted back down. “Yeah, Jamie?”

“You okay?”

Rebecca bit her lip. Her wet lashes clumped together as she shut her eyes tightly. Her shoulders shook. She took in a shaky breath and shook her head.

“Becky- Beck, hey.” Bucky reached for her, eventually putting his hand on hers. “It-it’s gonna be okay, Beck.” 

“‘M sorry,” Rebecca sobbed. “‘M sorry, Jamesie.”

“Becca, hey.” Bucky almost laughed. “Y’don’t gotta be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“If y’hadn’t had to pick me up from-”

“Woah, Beck. Listen. Y’couldn’t’ve stopped this, okay? You had nothin’ to do with this.” 

“An’ I got all pissed at you, like you jus’ didn’ care- I left so many mean messages-”

“Becca. Hey.” Bucky forced himself into a sitting position and hugged his sister as best he could. “It’s okay. I-I’m gonna be fine, okay?” Tears were streaming down both of their faces, though Bucky did his best to keep quiet. He stroked Rebecca’s hair. “Don’t blame yourself, Beck. It’s okay.”

Winifred put her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “Let’s go get you some water, okay?”

Rebecca nodded, chancing a final look at her older brother, then looked back down at the floor.

Bucky looked up expectantly at the door. There was Steve; his denim jacket clattering with pins in the front and stiff with patches in the back. There was a smear of blue paint on the bridge of his nose. He took a quick puff from his inhaler, leaning against the doorframe, before stumbling to Bucky’s bedside and cupping his face with both hands. Bucky’s stubble scratched against his palms as he peppered kisses across his boyfriend’s face.

“Steve, c’mon-” Bucky giggled, trying to get a grip on Steve to properly kiss him back. “I’m alright.”

“You’re  _ alive, _ ” Steve breathed. He laughed, still a little bit breathless, “I was so worried about you.” His hands slid down to Bucky’s shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze. “How’re you holdin’ up?”

Bucky gave a lazy sort of half-smile. “Painkillers are a fuckin’ miracle, hun.” He laughed, and Steve joined him. “I’ll live.”

“You sure? Can-can I get you anything? Do anything for you? Water? Ice? Are-are you hungry?”

“Geez, Stevie,” Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips in an attempt to shut him up. “You sound like my ma.”

“Sorry.” Steve bowed his head, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, baby.” Bucky put his hand on the back of Steve’s neck. “I know.”

“Listen, you- Whatever you need. You just call me, and I’ll be right there. Promise. Doesn’t matter what I’m doing.”

“Steve-”

“I’m serious, Buck. No matter what.”

“Stevie, listen-”

“Dammit, James, lemme fuckin’ finish!”

Bucky’s eyebrows jumped up. “Shit. Alright, fine. Go ahead.”

Steve sighed. “I know I can’t fix this,” he said softly. “I know I can’t. But I love you, Buck. I wanna be with you through this. I wanna do anything I can to help you. Even if it’s the middle of the night and you can’t sleep. Even if you just wanna sleep together over the phone. I mean it. Anything I can do, I  _ want _ to do it.” He lifted Bucky’s chin. “I love you, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky’s been smiling the whole time. He leans forward, resting his forehead against Steve’s, and a few tears escape his eyes. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Of course.” Steve wraps his skinny arms around Bucky, careful not to jostle the bandages wrapped around the remainder of his left shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured. “You’re gonna get through this. I know you will.”

“Shut up; you already made me cry.” Bucky laughed. “Punk.”

“Jerk.” Steve pulled back slightly and planted a kiss on Bucky’s lips. “Now say it back.”

“Are you for real?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky laughed. “I hate you so much.”

“Mm, no, I don’t think that’s it.”

“Yeah it is. I hate you. You’re the worst.”

“Then why’d you just kiss me?”

“Because I’m in love with you, jackhole. Now say it back.”

"Fine. I love you too, Stevie."

“That’s more like it.” Steve kissed him again.


End file.
